


The Christmas you Always Deserve

by Wayrich



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayrich/pseuds/Wayrich
Summary: It's getting late on Christmas Eve, and Jon still isn't home yet. Daenerys, his wife, is getting worried.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 81
Collections: Jonerys





	The Christmas you Always Deserve

Jon Stark was late.

That was the only thought going through Daenerys (or Dany, to her friends and family) Stark’s head. Her husband, Jon, was supposed to be home a few hours ago. She knew he’d been putting in some heavy shifts recently, but this was too far. It was 6:45 pm on the 24th of December, Christmas Eve. _‘Damn it Jon,’_ she seethed, _‘if you end up ruining Christmas, so help me gods, I’ll kill you.’_

A small tug on her crimson dress temporarily had her tearing her gaze from the front door of her house down to a handsome little boy. He was only four years old, with long, shiny silver-blonde locks and stormy grey eyes.

This was her son, Rhaegar, or Rhae as he was usually called, one of the greatest joys of her life.

She stooped down and picked him up, smiling widely, her anger at her husband now buried out of sight. “What’s wrong, Rhae?” she asked concernedly, frowning at the sad look on her boy’s face.

“Where’s daddy?” asked Rhae, as he began to play with one of her silver-blonde locks.

Dany sighed. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon, sweetling. He’s probably caught in traffic.”

Rhae buried his head into Dany’s shoulder. “Papa not here anymore,” he sniffled into her body.

Dany sighed again, as she began to gently soothe her son, a slight tinge of guilt rising within her. It was really her fault that Jon was out so late. Normally, he was always home to pick up the children from school and spend time with them, but recently he’d been working late, almost every single day, and it was, in reality, all her fault.

She normally worked as a paediatric doctor at Winter Town’s clinic, only a clinic because Winter Town was a rather small settlement, nowhere near as big as the cities of White Harbor and Maidenpool. After graduating from High School, she had immediately gone on to train as a doctor, and had chosen paediatric care, highlighting her love for children. After getting her required certification, she had immediately applied for and had gotten a position at the clinic, working with the kind Dr Luwin, Winter Town’s resident doctor, who had been there even before Eddard Stark, Jon’s father, had been born.

Jon Stark, the second born son of Eddard Stark, was her husband and the love of her life. They had first met after Catelyn Stark, Eddard’s wife, had brought both her and her older brother, Rhaegar, up to live with them, after the rest of her family were killed in a huge explosion on their ancestral island of Dragonstone. The Stark family, or House Stark, as they used to be known, was very prominent in the North, and, as such, owned Winterfell Castle, which used to be the Capital of the North, and all the lands surrounding it, on which they had built several large homes, or estates as they were more commonly called. Catelyn had moved her and Rhaegar into one of them, at no cost, telling them that is what Rhaella would have done for her children, if the roles would have been reversed. Catelyn, as it turned out, had been very close with her mother, as they had gone to university together, and had shared a dorm.

It was just after then, when they had settled in, that Rhaegar and Dany had been introduced to her children; which, at that time, had only included Robb, the eldest, Jon, and Sansa, who was just a baby at the time.

Dany had maintained a very close relationship with the Starks and the other Starks that had been born over the years, but none so close as with Jon. They were both childhood and High School sweethearts, having known really early on that they were destined for each other. Most commented on how weird their relationship was, as Jon was a jock, the captain of Winterfell High’s rugby team in fact, and Dany was what only can be described as a nerd, loving science more than any other lesson. Still, such comments never deterred them, and they soon showed how similar they were when Jon joined the Chess club, having enjoyed the games he often played with either Rhaegar or his father, and Dany joined and soon captained the Volleyball team. When they graduated, both with outstanding grades, their principal, Mr. Lannister, who they both knew personally now as Tyrion, said they were among the best he’d ever taught.

Jon and Dany, then, much to the consternation of their parents or brother, in Dany’s case, got engaged only a few weeks after graduation, and married five months later in a lavish ceremony in Winterfell Castle, with a starry eyed Rhaegar giving Dany away, and many tears shed from the Stark family and their friends. After that, they then moved into Dany’s house, as Rhaegar, after the couple got engaged, moved out and away to Dorne, wanting to explore, where he quickly fell in love with a girl there named Elia, who was the daughter of one of Dorne’s most powerful families, the Martells.

Jon worked as a professional rugby player, having immediately being offered a place at the Winterfell Wolverines Academy after he graduated from High School, which had been his dream ever since his Uncle Benjen had taken him to see a game when he was young. He had advanced up the ranks of the academy, until he eventually made his debut on the first team in a game against the Lannisport Lions two years later. He quickly proved his worth, scoring three tries past them, earning them the win, whilst Dany and his family supported him from the sidelines. After that, he became a semi-permanent first team member for the rest of that season, then the following year, he was bumped up to first team. Two years later, he was named captain, as the current one had retired, and the team, to his surprise, had nominated him for it, calling him the captain that they chose. Ever since then, Jon had led the team to five championship victories in seven years, a record for their team.

It was a struggle, at first, to manage both family life and their work life, but they quickly fell into a groove, and life continued on. Their family rapidly expanded, however, when their first child, Lyanna Stark, named for Jon’s aunt, who had tragically passed away after she had been buried under an avalanche in the far north, was born. A healthy baby girl, bearing Jon’s dark brown hair and Dany’s violet eyes, who captivated everybody she met, especially the hearts of her parents.

Catelyn, however, had been less than happy about being a grandmother so soon, being not even a year after Jon and Dany had gotten married, but all such thoughts had been driven from her mind when she and Eddard had met Lyanna for the first time. Rhaegar, when he managed to visit, had been much the same; ready to protest about how soon it was, but it faded immediately after he first laid eyes on his niece.

Rhaegar was there on time for the birth of Jon and Dany’s second child, three years later, which they decided to name Rhaegar, in honour of him, much to his teary-eyed happiness and his honour. Rhaegar had then introduced them to Elia, who was currently pregnant with their soon to be first born, named Rhaenys.

“Mama?” then asked Rhae, drawing Dany out of her thoughts, and she looked down to see her son squirming slightly, wanting to be put down. Chuckling softly, she put her son back on his feet, but hissed when an upcurrent of pain coursed through her left side. Wincing, she put a hand to it, and rubbed it until the pain receded. _‘One month my arse,’_ she thought savagely, thinking of how long it would take her to get back to work.

_‘Of course,’_ she seethed, _‘if it weren’t for that lowlife, we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?’_

Dany, despite her career as a doctor, still liked to keep herself fit, mostly thanks to both Jon’s influence when they were younger and her time on the Volleyball team, and so she insisted on walking to and from her workplace every day. It had been a surprisingly snowy night, two and a bit months ago, when she had been walking down Winter Town’s main street after a particularly long shirt, when she had been approached by a hooded man, who brandished a knife at her and demanded she hand over her handbag. She had, of course, ever the stubborn Targaryen, refused and attempted to run and call for help, only to receive a stab wound through the side of her chest.

Thankfully, several people had come running at the sound of her agonised scream, causing the scumbag to run away, leaving both the knife and her bag behind in his panic. She had been quickly rushed into hospital, with several of her coworkers immediately phoning Jon and her friends and family. She had gone into emergency surgery to examine and close the wound, and had awoken to a teary eyed Jon, still dressed in his playing gear, having abandoned a game when word reached him, and several other Starks who were simply there to support her.

She had to endure the other side of her work, that of a patient, for at least a week until she eventually was sent home, with orders to refrain from coming into work until the end of January. The police had also visited her during their stay in hospital, telling her that they’d found the man who attacked her. His name was Daario Naharis, a known mugger and burglar. Dany had worried for a time that she’d have to present evidence in court, fearing meeting him again, but thankfully both his fingerprints on the knife, coupled with the CCTV from a camera overlooking the back end of a shop, was enough to secure him a lengthy stay in prison, found guilty of attempted robbery, grievous bodily harm, and possessing a dangerous weapon with intent. Jon, at the time, had grumbled furiously for the death penalty, or just a few moments in a room with him. “Nobody hurts my Dany,” he had said, his tone iron, and his hands flexing.

Afterwards, it turns out that, as a result of Dany’s attack, it resulted in several effects on their family, both in the positive and the negative.

The main positive reason was that she got to spend more time with her children, as her hours at the clinic often had her leaving early and coming back late into the afternoon. Still, even with those hours, she still spent as much time with Jon and the children as possible, but it was nice to be there when the children left for school, and to go and pick them up afterwards. Jon was normally the one to do that, as his daily practice or session at the gym normally ended before the school day ended, but Dany had taken up that duty in recent times, one of the few things she was able to do.

The main negative effect, however, was that her lack of income had severely crippled their financial standing. They made do on their savings for a month or so, but the burden of a rather large household with two growing children soon had them running low. And that, coupled with a small leak in their roof that had turned out to be a three thousand pound fix, had left them in a precarious position indeed, and they were absolutely against dipping into the children’s university funds. After considering all possible options, Dany had suggested that they ask their family for help, but Jon, ever the proud, stubborn northerner, refused, saying that they’d find a way through it themselves.

And so they had struggled on for over two weeks, until Jon had come to her, saying that he’d found a job, but, as a result, he’d be working either during the afternoon or during the night, concurrently with his gym sessions. Dany, fearing for her husband’s wellbeing, had once again brought up talking to his parents, but Jon had refused again, resulting in them having their first argument in over a year. After making up, Jon had asked Dany to promise not to tell anybody else, which she unfortunately had agreed to.

Nevertheless, whatever it was that Jon was unfortunately doing now, it had managed to pay for the children’s gifts, the Christmas dinner and the Christmas Eve party, which was always a rather large affair all by itself.

The Stark family, after several of the children had flown the coop, as Catelyn called it, made a tradition that each year, they’d have a family get together on Christmas Eve, at a different one of the Stark children’s houses each year, and this year, unfortunately, it was Jon and Dany’s turn, putting an even greater pressure on their finances. When asked about it, Jon had merely said that everything was in hand, but Dany was still worried about him. He was just so…tired all the time, doing both the job and his required hours at the gym. Tonight, however, he’d said that he’d finish early, but something had obviously happened, causing him to miss, much to Dany’s displeasure, the buffet that she’d spent two weeks planning and making. She had, of course, put a plate of everything aside for him for when he came home.

That, however, was nearly two hours ago.

_‘Where are you Jon?’_ she thought impatiently, with a hint of pleading. The anger she’d been holding for over an hour and a half was slowly dissipating, and it was now being replaced by worry.

“Everything alright, Dany darling?” a kind voice then said, and Dany turned around to see Catelyn Stark, the matriarch of the family, striding towards her from the entrance to the living room, where the family was right now, drinking and talking merrily. The door was slightly ajar, revealing her daughter, Lyanna, perched on her grandfather’s lap, laughing happily, prompting a small smile to come onto Dany’s face.

It fell, however, when Catelyn drew alongside her, wrapping her up in one of her trademark loving hugs. “Gods,” she said, “you’re freezing. How long have you been out here?”

Dany was hard pressed to keep the tears from falling. She’d had a plan for tonight, a surprise for Jon, but his absence was sending that plan down the drain. “Al…almost an hour,” she then replied, sniffling.

“Daenerys?” said Catelyn, her eyes widening in alarm, “Daenerys, what’s wrong?”

The tears began to fall, and Catelyn immediately wrapped her up in a hug. She couldn’t hold it in anymore; the worry she’s felt for Jon, how tired he always was, her guilt at not being able to support her family, her anger at Jon not being here, all of it.

“Oh Dany,” sighed Catelyn. “Maybe you should get Jon to come home from the gym early. Why Davos is making him do all those extra hours is beyond me.” Davos Seaworth was the Wolverine’s coach, and had been for the past eleven years after he transferred from a minor club in the Stormlands. He treated all the players under him like family.

Dany, however, merely cried harder. That was the excuse, if anybody asked over him, that he was at the gym, training. Something then snapped in her. _‘I can’t do it.’_ She couldn’t lie anymore.

“He’s…he’s…” began Dany, hating how weak she sounded, “he’s not at the gym.”

“Not at the gym?” queried Catelyn. “What do you mean? He’s had all those extra sessions, you said so!”

Dany shook her head. “He’s..he’s not.” She then gulped, feeling shame and guilt pouring from her. “We’ve been having money problems ever since my….injury… and Jon’s been working to help pay for Christmas. He’s been so tired ever since, and it’s been killing me.”

“What?” said Catelyn, her tone turning tense, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Catelyn’s face then began to boil, and she stepped away from Dany. “You stay here,” she barked, gesturing downwards with her finger, before she turned around, stalked back to the living room and bellowed, “NED, GET IN HERE!” which immediately silenced the voices in the living room.

Dany winced at her tone, easily recognising it from her time growing up with the Starks. It was the tone that suggested that someone was in deep shit. She couldn’t help but shrink slightly, feeling like the five year old girl that had been caught with her hand in the cookie pot.

Footsteps were soon heard on the laminate floor of the living room, before the Stark patriarch emerged, his eyes alert and his face serious. “What’s going on, Cat?” he then asked, his eyes widening when he took in Dany’s sullen and depressed posture.

Catelyn, with a glare at the people now crowding the living room door, warning them away, closed the door behind her husband and then marched over to Dany, her eyes ablaze. “Tell him!” she shouted.

Ned’s gaze flickered from his outraged wife, to his saddened daughter in law. “Tell me what?” he demanded, his voice turning colder.

“Jon’s…” began Dany, before her voice failed her, and more tears slipped down her face.

“Daenerys, what’s wrong?”

Dany sighed again. “We’ve,” she hesitated, “we’ve been having money problems ever since I was… injured, and Jon’s been working to pay for Christmas ever since, while going to the gym at the same time.” She then looked down and mumbled, “He’s killing himself, Dad.”

Ned’s brow furrowed. “He what?” he questioned, his voice growing. “Why didn’t you ever tell us? We would have helped you, you know that! This whole party was our idea in the first place!”

Dany sent him a look, which immediately had Ned sighing. “That proud, stubborn fool…” he said, shaking his head, before he pulled his phone out and dialled Jon’s number. When it went through to answering machine, he said, his mayoral voice in place, “Jon, it’s your father. Daenerys has told us about your stupidity, and I’m not having it. Ring me back now!” He then set his phone to vibrate, before he tucked it into his trouser pocket. They waited three minutes, the usual Stark waiting time for somebody to call back, before Ned moved to the coat rack and put on his jacket.

“Where is he?” he then demanded, his car key in hand.

Dany shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said sadly. “He’d never tell me.” _‘Probably because he knew I’d eventually tell them,’_ she finished privately.

Ned paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, before he put his car key back in his jacket and pulled his phone out again. “I’m ringing Davos,” he said firmly. “If that fails, I’m calling Rodrik.” Rodrik, the chief of the Winter Town Police Department, was a close friend of Ned’s, and knew the town and castle back to back.

“Don’t,” said Dany softly. “I’ll do it.” She then walked through the foyer and into the kitchen, where her phone sat on a surface next to a plate of the buffet’s leftovers. Ned and Catelyn strode into the room just as she dialled Davos’s number. Davos made sure all his players and their families had his number, in case of emergencies.

Dany, wiping away the last of her tears, waited for Davos to pick up.

“Put it on speaker,” said Catelyn, and Dany moved the phone to the small dining table and put it on speakerphone, revealing the sounds of the phone ringing.

The line connected. “Hello?” the slightly weary voice of Davos Seaworth answered.

“Davos, it’s Dany Stark,” replied Dany.

“Dany!” said Davos jovially, “It’s been a while hasn’t it? What can I do for ya?”

“Do you know where Jon has been working the past few months?”

“Workin’?” queried Davos. “Other than his trainin’ time, I don’t know about any workin’.”

Dany’s heart fell. “He never mentioned anything?”

“Nay,” replied Davos, before he sighed. “The laddie has been dead on his feet for the past month or so, however. When I asked him about it, he just said that he wasn’t gettin’ enough shuteye. I was considering sendin’ him to Luwin, but he always said he was fine.”

When Dany audibly sniffled, Davos immediately asked, “What’s wrong, Dany? I’ve never heard ya as one to cry about anything, even when Marsh gave him that almighty spear last season!”

Dany winced, thinking of that time, when Jon had been hit with a spear from Adrian Marsh, a notorious player for the Hammerhorn Harriers, a team hailing from the Iron Islands, before her face fell and she sniffled again. Under Ned and Catelyn’s watchful gazes, she then informed Davos, “Jon…Jon’s been working a second job ever since my attack, to pay for Christmas.”

“Why didn’t he-” began Davos, before he sighed. “Stupid boy. He’s almost as stubborn as his father.”

“I heard that,” said Ned, with a small trace of amusement.

“Lord Stark,” greeted Davos, making use of the informal title for Ned. “Happy Christmas to ya.”

“Same to you, Davos,” replied Ned. “Can you think of anything that Jon might have said, indicating where he’s employed? He’s working right now, when he should be here with his family.”

“Shit,” sighed Davos. A few moments passed, before Davos said regretfully, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got no idea where the lad is. I’ll send a message to the others, asking them whether they’ve heard anything.”

Ned sighed as well, running a hand through his beard. “Thanks Davos.”

“No problem,” replied Davos. “I hope ya find the lad, just give him a smack from old Davos when ya find him, will ya? Tell him to stop being such a stubborn fool.”

“Will do,” replied Catelyn furiously.

“Lady Stark,” greeted Davos. “I’ll try me best, I swear.”

“Thanks Davos,” said Dany, before she ended the call and slumped onto one of her kitchen stools.

“That’s it,” said Ned, as he unlocked his phone, “I’m ringing Rodrik.” He dialled the number and was about to ring it, when a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Let me try something,” said Catelyn, squeezing her husband’s arm slightly, before she left the room back the way they came, leaving Ned and Dany alone.

“Daenerys,” then said Ned, “why didn’t you say anything? Damn Jon, you should have told us!”

“He made me promise not to,” replied Dany sadly, before she buried her head in her hands. “I’m a fucking idiot,” she sighed muffledly.

“No,” then said Ned, “you aren’t to blame for Jon’s actions. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I always taught him to be honourable, like the Starks of old, but it seems like I forgot to teach him that it’s alright to ask for help. I mean, the amount of times people have asked the two of you for help, and you’ve helped them, including when Robb and Margaery moved in together, and when we lost Lyanna, and that’s not even including the children’s ward.”

Dany sighed at the thought of it. Winter Town’s clinic, despite the rather high amount of children in the town, did not have a dedicated children’s ward when Dany first started working there. So, after deliberation with Jon, she had funnelled most of her inheritance from what was left of the Targaryen fortune into building one, which was named ‘The Rhaella Targaryen Children’s Ward.’ It was a state of the art facility, with everything that her small department would need to take care of children, both short and long term, instead of the more serious cases having to go to White Harbor, separating families. Many had thanked her for her actions, but she had merely said that it was the best use of the money she had, all the while being rather embarrassed about it. The rest of her inheritance had gone into either Lyanna’s or Rhae’s university fund, or had been spent on things for the house, as had the stipend Ned and Catelyn had given to Jon after he graduated High School, as well as when they got married.

“I-” began Dany, before the kitchen door opened, and in marched Catelyn, who was dragging an apologetic looking Robb by his ear, prompting a small smile from Dany.

“Son?” asked Ned expectantly, as Catelyn released their eldest son, “have you got something to say?”

Robb sighed, while rubbing his slightly red ear. “I know where he’s working,” he then revealed. “There’s a pub just off Stadium Way,” he explained, “called Wildlings. I went in there with a few work friends just over a week ago for an impromptu Christmas do, and I saw Jon working at the bar there. I asked him what the hell he was doing there, because he looked like death warmed over, but he just said that it was for Dany, Lya and Rhae, before he made me promise not to tell anyone.” He then turned to Dany. “I thought he was working for a surprise for you and the kids.”

Tears once again began to slip down Dany’s face. That was her Jon, never thinking about himself. She also knew the establishment; it was owned by a rather wild man named Tormund, who was on friendly terms with Jon, and seemed to be a rather big fan of the Wolverines.

“Put on your jacket,” said Ned, as he glared at Robb. “You’re taking me there, and we’re going to drag your brother back if we have to.”

“No,” said Dany, as Robb nodded and began to move away.

Ned turned to her, a retort on his lips, but Dany shook her head. “No,” she repeated. “He’s my husband; I’ll go and get him. I know the place.” She then looked to Catelyn. “Can you mind the children and the house while I’m gone?”

Catelyn nodded. “Of course we can, just make sure you bring him back in enough pieces so I can get my own hits in. Stupid boy,” she then grumbled, shaking her head.

Dany, smiling slightly, nodded, then walked out of the kitchen, into the foyer, then up the stairs. She hurried past the children’s rooms and a couple of empty ones before she arrived at their bedroom. She picked up her long fur coat from the arm of her dressing chair and pulled it on, tying it shut. She also toed off her high heels, then put on sports socks and her much more comfy trainers on over them; the combination definitely more suitable for driving.

Grabbing her car key, which lay by her bedside table, she left the room and walked back downstairs, only to find not just Ned, Catelyn and Robb stood there, but also Lyanna and Rhae.

“My sweetlings,” said Dany warmly, as she opened her arms, allowing them to speed into her embrace, “I won’t be gone long. I’m just going to get your father.”

“Can we come?” was the immediate questions of them both.

Dany shook her head. “You have to stay here in the warm house, okay? I’ll have your dad home in no time at all. Now, be good for Grandpa Ned and Nana Catelyn. Will you do that?”

Lyanna and Rhae nodded, and Dany bent down and placed a kiss on both their foreheads. “I love you both,” she said softly, before she gave them one last hug, then hugged her in laws before she opened the door and proceeded outside, shivering immediately at how cold it was.

She walked over to her car, a convertible silver Mini, and unlocked it and got in, pausing to give a look at Jon’s stationary blue Ford Kuga, otherwise known as the family car, before she closed the door, smiling when the familiar smell of her lavender air freshener greeted her. She was very attached to her car, it being a graduation present from Rhaegar, but she’d considered selling it to help them out a few weeks ago. Jon, however, had put his foot down, saying that she needed it to get to work, because there was “no way in all the seven hells that you’re walking again.” His tone had left no option for argument, and Dany had conceded the point, whilst secretly being glad she didn’t have to lose her car. However, compared to having Jon home and not tired as all hell, she would have gladly made the exchange.

Shivering slightly, she then turned the ignition, starting the engine, and immediately turned both the heaters on and got the windscreen wipers going, clearing the snow and the ice that had gathered on the windscreen since she’d last used it, which was yesterday.

When she was warm enough, and the window cleared, she released the parking brake and got going, following the road that looped around part of the castle before it entered Winter Town, which was, predictably, sparsely populated at this time. Dany pulled onto the main road and followed it all the way to the Wolf’s Den, the stadium which the Wolverines played at, easily spotted even in the darkness by the orange heaters the pitch always had on during cold seasons, to keep the grass healthy.

Her attention was diverted when she stopped at a crossroads not too far from the stadium, which sported a rather large banner of Jon in his playing kit, with an advertisement to renew your season tickets. Her, Lya and Rhae were always provided season tickets for the hospitality seats every year, even though they couldn’t make it to every match. The Starks did as well, but that was mainly due to the shares they owned of the team, and concurrently the stadium. As she waited for the light to turn green, she couldn’t help but eye the banner of her husband with interest. She had always liked Jon in his kit. Not that anybody but him knew, but it was always such a turn on for her.

The blinking of the light then drew her attention, and she returned her focus to the road as the light turned green, permitting her to drive on. Tormund’s pub was, as she remembered, on a side street near to the small retail park that neighboured the stadium. The pub soon came into sight, largely thanks to it’s ridiculous street sign, which was a giant ginger man drinking tankards of ale. It was busy, evidenced by the amount of cheers she could hear and the blaring music, but not enough that Dany couldn’t find parking, as she pulled into a free spot luckily not too far from the main entrance.

She then got out of the car, once again shivering when the waves of cold hit her. Taking care to lock the car behind her, she crossed the parking lot and entered the pub, wincing when the unfiltered music battered her ears.

She attracted a few stares as she made her way over to the bar, eagerly looking for any sign of the curls she oh so loved to run her hands through, but was disappointed to only see a tall, ginger woman manning the bar.

Dany, frowning slightly, fought her way over to her, then waited until her current patron, a rather bulky auburn haired man who loudly referred to himself as ‘Stoick’, much to her amusement, got his drinks and moved away.

The bartender waved her forward, flashing her with a smile, a pint glass already at the ready.

“Merry Christmas! What you havin’?” she said roughly.

“Is Jon in?” she asked loudly, straining to make herself heard over the music.

“Aye,” said the woman, before she ran an eye over Dany’s clothing, remarking, “Did ya need him?”

“I’m his wife,” said Dany tersely, in lieu of an explanation.

The woman’s eyes widened, and she looked Dany up and down. “So, you’re the one he always yaps on about.”

“Where is he?” half requested, half demanded Dany, prompting the woman’s face to sharpen. _‘Typical wildling,’_ she snorted to herself. Wildlings, historically, originally hailed from beyond the Wall, but over the centuries some of them had eventually emigrated South, but they very rarely travelled further than the Neck, the border of the North. Their roughness was second to none, as were the sharpness of their tongues.

“In the back,” replied an even rougher accent, after a few moments, and Dany then beheld the slightly familiar form which she eventually recognised as Tormund, the bar’s owner. He was big and tall, with unkempt, crazy ginger hair, but he had a smile on his face.

“You look familiar,” he gruffed.

“We’ve met once,” said Dany. “I’m Jon’s wife, Daenerys. Where is he?” she then repeated.

Tormund ran an eye over her before he nodded and gestured towards him. “Come with me.”

Dany then walked around the bar, through the entrance which Tormund held open, and followed him behind it into a room entitled ‘Staff Only’. Tormund then led her up a series of stairs, until they reached a second floor, which had to be Tormund’s living quarters. Tormund led her into a room, which soon revealed itself to be a bedroom, and on that bed was Jon, heavy bags under his eyes, flat out asleep.

“Oh, Jon,” sighed Dany, as she hurried to and dropped to his side, running a hand along his cheek.

“He nearly collapsed before,” explained Tormund, “so we put him in here, and he quickly fell asleep. His shift ended a few hours ago, and we didn’t know what to do with him.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” demanded Dany. She could have been here hours ago!

Tormund pointed to the bedside table, where Jon’s phone rested. “His phone died, and we had no idea what your number was. We couldn’t spare the staff to run him to Winterfell.” Dany, scowling slightly at the explanation, picked up the phone, and saw that it was indeed dead. She tucked it into one of her pockets.

She then sighed. “I’m sorry for my rudeness, it’s just that I’ve been worried about him all day.”

Tormund waved it away with one swing of his hand. Dany then turned back to her dozing husband. “Oh my love,” she sighed, “what have you done to yourself?” He hadn’t ever looked this bad; the only possible comparison was when she had gone into labour with Lyanna, a gruelling 26 hours, and he’d had a game the previous day, only resulting in him getting three hours sleep in over two and a half days.

“He said it was for his family,” inputted Tormund. “I often told him to not come in, because of how tired he looked and sounded, but he always came in and did his shift. Stubborn little wolf,” he then chuckled, before he asked, “Did you get the surprise? It was all he said he needed the money for.”

“There was no surprise,” replied Dany, with a hint of guilt. “I was stabbed a few months ago, and I’ve been unable to go back to work, at least until January. Jon started working here in order to pay for Christmas when our savings began to run out.”

“Doctor Stark?” then asked a familiar voice, and Tormund stepped aside to let a tall, blonde woman in. “I thought I recognised a voice.”

“Mrs. Brienne,” greeted Dany, recognising the parent of one of her more complicated patients. Her daughter, Signy, had come down with some sort of virus around March time, and it had resulted in a few sleepless nights for Dany as she had raced to find a cure. Thankfully, she had found one in time, and Signy had made a full recovery. Looking at Tormund now, she could see the resemblance. Signy had fierce ginger curls, a far cry from her mother’s blonde hair.

“You’re Dr Stark?” then said Tormund, partially in disbelief, “the one who helped Sig?”

“The very same,” replied Dany, before she turned to Brienne. “How is she?” she asked curiously. Signy had been a favourite of hers; strong willed and unwilling to show weakness. If it hadn’t have been for the grey skin, coughs, and varying amounts of vomiting, you wouldn’t have thought she was sick in the first place.

“Very well,” replied Brienne, smiling widely. “She’s looking forward to going back to school after the break. She says she wants to be a doctor when she grows up, just like you.”

Dany smiled, despite the state of her husband. “I’m glad to hear it. The world needs more doctors.”

Brienne had a quick conversation with Tormund, who left, before her eyes then went to Jon. “Jon’s your husband?” she asked. When Dany nodded, she smiled again. “You’re a lucky woman, Dr. Stark. I don’t think you’ll ever find a man more infatuated with his family than he is. All he does is talk about you and your children.”

Dany smiled as she ran a hand through Jon’s messy hair, saying, “He’s a very caring man, even though it’s gotten to the point where he’s actually trying to kill himself.” She then leant in and planted a kiss on Jon’s lips, and he moaned slightly in response.

“Dany, love,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Jon,” whispered Dany, “Jon, it’s time to wake up, love.”

The eye of Jon’s that she could see slowly crept open, blinking rapidly to adapt to the light, and he peered up at her. “D-Dany?” he stumbled out, yawning, “wh-what are y-you d-doing here?”

“I’m here to get you, you stupid, silly man,” replied Dany. “The children and family miss you.”

Jon blinked, as his eyes opened further. “W-what time i-is it?”

Dany raised one of her sleeves and checked her watch. “It’s quarter past seven.”

“Shit,” he sighed, before he looked up at Dany, his eyes beginning to water. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry. You worked so hard on that party. I’m a failure.”

Dany slapped his cheek softly. “Don’t you ever say that! Would a failure have done all of this, just to make sure his children got a good Christmas?”

“The b-best C-christmas,” yawned Jon, “the one y-you all d-deserve.”

Tears sprung forth from Dany’s eyes. “Oh Jon,” she sighed, before she leant in and kissed him sweetly.

“Are the kids alright?” he then asked.

“They’re fine,” assured Dany, “they’re all fine. Your mum and dad are watching over them. Oh, that reminds me, prepare for a tongue-lashing from the both of them, your mum especially.”

Jon looked at her. “You told them.” His voice held a hint of betrayal.

“I had to!” shouted Dany. “You were always so tired. You barely had any time to see the children or me, and even when you did, you were always nodding off! I mean, you had me lie to our family, for fucks sake!”

“I’m sorry,” replied Jon, looking contrite. “It was my problem, I had to make it right.”

“No, Jon,” rebutted Dany, “it was our problem. This ring,” she said, pointing to her wedding ring, then to his,“means that we are husband and wife, that we fix any problems together.”

“You were injured,” stated Jon.

“I don’t care,” replied Dany. “If you ever got injured from training or playing, did you ever sit back and let me do everything? No!”

Jon sighed, before he wiped the sleep away from his eyes. He slowly got up, so he was in a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes again. “I’m sorry, Dany. I just wanted-”

“Jon,” said Dany, interrupting him, “the best gift anybody could get me, Lyanna or Rhae for Christmas is you. The rest of it doesn’t matter.”

“And all I would want is the three of you,” replied Jon, smiling slightly, before he muffled another yawn.

Dany winced slightly, but quickly hid it and smiled. “Now,” she then said, “will you come home, and stop doing these ridiculous things?”

“I agree,” said Tormund, prompting Jon and Dany to turn to see him looking at them speculatively.

“Tormund,” began Jon, but Tormund stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“Jonno,” he then said, “you’re fired.”

Jon merely nodded, saying, “I understand.”

“And,” continued Tormund, “here’s your severance pay, as the big wigs say it.” He then handed over a small piece of paper to Dany, which then revealed itself, much to the shock of them both, to be a cheque worth ten thousand pounds.

“Tormund,” protested Jon, “we can’t take this.”

“I agree,” said Dany.

“You can, and you will,” said Brienne. “Jon, you’re one of the most hardworking people we’ve ever seen, and, with what we’ve just heard, you’re one of the most caring men we’ve ever seen. Daen- Dr. Stark,” she corrected, “your efforts saved our baby girl. We talked to Dr. Luwin about you, and he told us about how the ward came from your private donation, and also about how the fact was that without that ward, our Signy would have most likely died of that infection.”

“We want you to take it,” furthered Tormund, “as a thank you, to both of you, and as a Christmas gift.”

Jon and Dany looked to each other, their mouths agape, before they both nodded.

“Thank you,” said Jon tiredly, muffling a yawn.

“Thank you,” said Dany gratefully, as she moved to give Brienne a hug, which the blonde woman reciprocated.

“Now,” said Tormund, gesturing behind him, “go home and enjoy Christmas. Both of you will be welcome here at any time, as long as we or our children live.”

“Thanks Tormund,” said Jon, “thanks for everything.”

Tormund chuckled. “It’s not every day I get a local hero of mine working in my bar. Just do me a favour?”

“Name it.”

“Win it again this year?”

Jon chuckled, then muffled another yawn. “I’ll do my very best.”

Jon then got to his feet shakily, with Dany supporting him, and hugged Tormund, who said, “I’m gonna miss you, boyo.”

“Me too. Who knows,” then said Jon, “I might bring the lads here after a game sometime.” Dany rolled her eyes. _‘As if Davos would ever allow that.’_ When the season was on, the coach had a very strict regimen considering alcohol. Several players had been let go in the past for coming into training hungover.

Tormund’s resulting grin, however, was infectious. “Please do. A picture of the team would go spectacularly behind the bar.”

Brienne soon left for another room on the second floor, but Tormund led them down and out of the back door. He escorted them to Dany’s car, then gave them a solitary wave before he headed back inside.

Dany got into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition just as Jon put his seatbelt on.

“Cold?” asked Dany, and when Jon nodded, she turned the heaters up.

“Thanks, love,” replied Jon, as he held his hands against the vent where the hot air was coming from.

Dany said nothing as she reversed out of the parking lot, then pulled back onto the main road when she saw that no-one was coming in either direction.

“I’m sorry,” then said Jon.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” said Dany softly, even though she kept her eyes on the road. “I was the one who was injured. I would have had paid holidays to use, if that cunt of a Prime Minister Baratheon and his Chancellor Baelish hadn’t have cut them down, that is.” Hospitals going up and down Westeros had been striking about it, but Dany had several children she had needed to supervise at the time, so she had stayed.

“I’ll kill them for you,” yawned Jon.

“Tempting,” chuckled Dany, “but I don’t fancy playing the part of a prisoner’s wife.”

“True,” said Jon, before he sighed. “How pissed off are Mum and Dad?”

“Very,” replied Dany. “They’re annoyed that you didn’t talk to them, something which I distinctively remember telling you to do.”

“I couldn’t-”

“Oh please,” scoffed Dany. “How many times has Robb come asking your parents for money, over some new project Marge has started? We would have paid it back, as soon as I went back to work and the new season started.”

Jon was silent for a few moments. “I didn’t think of that,” he then replied, before he scratched his beard. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“We’re both fucking idiots. You for doing it, me for not telling someone you were doing it.”

“Who is the more foolish, the fool, or the fool who follows him?” quoted Jon, with the smallest of smirks.

“Star Wars,” replied Dany blandly. “Funny.”

“I love you,” then said Jon. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry.”

Dany raised her hand from the gearstick, then grasped Jon’s hand for a moment. “I love you too, and I forgive you.”

Jon raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, before she took her hand back and changed gear. Silence was then their constant companion for the rest of the journey, and they didn’t speak until Dany turned off the ignition, when they were parked safely back outside their home. Everyone else’s car was still there, so perhaps Dany’s plan could be salvaged.

“Time to face the music,” sighed Jon.

Dany giggled, before she leant over and kissed him on the cheek. “Be brave, my captain.”

Jon chuckled, before he undid his seatbelt and opened the door, then got out of the car, with Dany doing the same. After locking the car, Dany walked over to him and grasped his hand, and they walked together to the front door, which Jon opened and gestured Dany to walk in first. Smiling at his chivalrous actions, which he, not in over twenty years, had ever stopped doing, she walked inside and removed her coat, just as Jon stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Running feet soon greeted them, and the living room door swung open, followed with screams of “DADDY!” and Jon sunk to the floor, opening his arms as his children sprinted into his embrace.

“You home!” cheered Rhae, as he wrapped himself around Jon’s left side.

“Welcome home, Dad,” said Lyanna eagerly, as she snuggled into his right.

“Oh my pups,” said Jon, tears now flowing, “I’m so very sorry for being so late, and I promise that it’ll never happen again.”

“Will things go back to the way they were before?” asked Lyanna, her voice begging.

Jon nodded quickly. “They will, I promise. I just wanted you to have the best Christmas possible.”

“It’s only Christmas while you’re here, daddy,” said Lyanna, before she tightened her hug.

“What Lya said!” repeated Rhae.

Jon, tears flowing harder, kissed them both on the forehead. “You two, along with mama, are my world, you know that?”

“Mama,” then pleaded Rhae, “come hug!”

Dany, who had been stood off to the side, shedding tears of her own, dropped to their level, ignoring the pain in her side, and she too was quickly included in the family hug.

“So,” eventually said Jon, after a couple of minutes of solid hugging, “have you been good while I was out?”

Both Lya and Rhae nodded immediately. “We’ve been good, daddy! Uncle Robb showed us how to make funny noises with our armpits!” Rhae, to demonstrate, stuck his hand under his armpit and made a farting noise, the sound of which sent him into giggles.

Jon looked at Dany, sensing that an epidemic of arm-farts were due. “That’s…. very good,” he then said, before he stood up, making use of his years of rugby experience to take Lya and Rhae with him, before he spun around on the spot, twirling them in the air. Dany, stepping back to avoid a flying child, merely laughed.

When Jon put them down, Rhae immediately went scampering off to Dany, while Lya kept her hand intertwined with Jon’s. This…this was the norm. Lya was definitely a Daddy’s girl, while Rhae was a Mommy’s boy. That’s not to say they didn’t love their other parent any less, of course.

“Jon,” then greeted a familiar voice, and Jon winced as he looked up to behold the simmering form of his mother, who had her hands on her hips. His father stood next to her, with his arms crossed, but his expression was slightly less hostile. Very slightly.

“Hey mum,” greeted Jon, somewhat nervously.

Catelyn strode forwards, before she began to analyse Jon thoroughly, taking into notice his ringed eyes and weary stature. Jon, meanwhile, was mentally bracing himself for the tirade he was surely going to receive. His mother, while she may be a very loving and caring woman, had one hell of a temper.

However, he was surprised when he was suddenly engulfed in a warm hug from his mother. “You stupid, stupid boy,” she sighed, before she stepped back and lightly cuffed him around the ear. “Don’t you ever do something like this again.”

Jon nodded meekly. “Yes, mum.”

Ned then stepped forward, and he performed his own analysis of Jon before he too hugged him. “I know you might consider doing it yourself is the honourable thing to do,” he then advised, “but asking others for help isn’t a sign of weakness. We are your parents, son. We are always here to help you, just as you are always here to help Lya and Rhae.”

Jon nodded. “I know, Dad, it’s just..”

“I know,” nodded Ned. “You’re a Stark. Daenerys, Lyanna and Rhaegar are your duty, so you have to take care of them. But who takes care of you?”

“I will!” immediately volunteered Lyanna.

Jon, smiling, nestled his daughter at his side, clutching her into a hug. “My fierce little knight,” he effused, and Lya giggled in response.

“Am I a knight too?” asked Rhae, as he walked over with Dany.

“Of course,” nodded Jon. “I’ll go and get you your swords from Winterfell’s armoury.” He then gulped as Dany glared at him. “I think I’ll need one for myself as well, to protect myself from your mother.” He did have some actual experience with swordplay, as it was tradition for the Stark boys to know how to wield a sword, not that they ever actually used them, that is. Jon’s blade was locked up in the attic, at his last reckoning.

“Mama dragon!” then exclaimed Rhae, jarring Jon from his thoughts. “She don’t need sword!”

Dany laughed and picked up her son. “That’s right, sweetling; I am, and I don’t.” She then nuzzled his nose. “And so are you and your sister. My little dragonwolves.” Despite their close links to their Stark heritage, Dany, and to some extent Rhaegar, when he visited, made sure that they knew of their Targaryen heritage as well. Jon was hard pressed to avoid wincing when he thought about the time when a younger Lya, after learning of her once-royal bloodline, had demanded they treat her like a princess. She, thankfully, had grown out of it after a few months.

A cough from his father drew him out of his posturings. “Come on then,” then said Ned, gesturing to the living room, “we’ve been waiting for you.”

Jon, with Lya to one side, and Dany to the other, who had Rhae’s hand in her other hand, entered the living room, and was immediately swamped by their family.

“Well,” chuckled Robb, “look who’s finally here!”

Jon smiled. “Finally.”

Robb stepped forward and hugged Jon tightly for a moment. “You’re an idiot, brother,” he then said, shaking his head, as if he was supremely disappointed in him.

Jon raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done far worse, at my last recollection,” he needled, before he began to turn towards their mother.

“Don’t you even think about it,” growled Robb, before he smiled and stepped aside to let his wife kiss Jon on the cheek and offer her own greetings.

“Jon, darling,” said a smirking Margaery, “you look positively dashing. The bags under your eyes really bring out the grey in your eyes.”

“Why thank you,” replied Jon, before he muffled a yawn.

Sansa then stepped up to him, dressed in one of her suits that she normally wore to court, during her job as a county court barrister. “You look terrible,” she observed, before she hugged him tightly. Hey boyfriend, Podrick, who stayed in his seat, waved to Jon, before he began to fight with Robb’s son, Eddard, over Sansa’s vacated seat.

A punch to his arm announced the arrival of his littlest sister, Arya, who sidled up to him with one of her twins, Daniella, in her arms. Gendry, her husband, had Steffon, the other twin, with him.

“You bloody idiot,” scowled Arya. “Now I can’t beat you up without feeling bad about it!”

“All part of the plan, sister,” remarked Jon, before he hugged her, taking care to avoid crushing Daniella, who he planted a small kiss on her forehead, causing the infant to gurgle.

Gendry then stepped forward and gave a one armed hug to Jon. “You know,” he quipped, “if you can’t do the captain’s duties this year, then I can always-”

“Go and f- yourself?” suggested Jon. Gendry too played for the Wolverines, as a prop forward, one of the heavy hitters, and always made jokes of his plots to take Jon’s captaincy from under him. Gendry, in response to his reply, laughed mightily, before he stepped back.

“Hi Jon,” greeted Bran, before he too got in a hug. “I’ve been considering writing an article,” he then said, grinning, “about the correlation between rugby tackles and brain deficiency. Care to quote me?” Bran was an aspiring journalist, and had recently secured an internship to a local newspaper. The career choice really fit his personality, as he always had to know everything.

“I’ll quote you, you little devil,” then growled Jon, before he wrestled Bran’s head under his arm and faked trying to choke him out. When he released him, Bran stepped back, readjusted his hair, and grinned again.

“Winterfell Wolverines star ruthlessly assaults his little brother,” chortled Bran. “That should get my name on the map.”

Jon chuckled, shaking his head, then greeted Bran’s girlfriend, Meera, the daughter of another friend of his father’s; Howland Reed, who lived in the swamps surrounding the neck.

Rickon, the youngest, was the only one there alone, but Jon gave him an equally as big hug. “Hey baby brother,” greeted Jon, “how’s your studies going?” Rickon was studying computer science, and his dream was to work in one of the many ICT companies in Oldtown.

Rickon shrugged. “I’m doing good. Marks are high, and I’m slightly ahead of the others. Alys asked me for your autograph again, by the way.”

Jon sighed. Alys Karstark was a student at Rickon’s university, who was seemingly his biggest fan, and when it was made known that Rickon was his younger brother, she immediately became his best friend. “What,” he then said, “did the previous six not get through?”

Rickon shrugged again. “She’s in love, what do you expect?”

“What’s this I hear?” said Dany, as she walked to Jon’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Is your fan club causing you some trouble, dearest?”

Jon sighed. “I’m surrounded by hyenas.”

Dany and Rickon laughed.

“Come on Daddy!” then said Lya, and Jon then found himself being half led, half dragged to his usual couch by his daughter, who plopped herself on his lap as soon as he sat down, and even ate some of the food from the heaping plate that Dany placed by him, before his wife sat down next to him and similarly took Rhae into her lap as well.

When the plate was clear, Jon being hungry enough to devour a direwolf, Robb passed a beer into his hand, which he drunk eagerly. Despite working at a bar, he’d had little to none of the stuff, even though many of his co-workers had done the same.

Despite how tired he felt, he did not allow himself to even think about falling asleep. He’d missed so much of not just today, but other days too, and he was loathe to lose any more. Lya and Rhae soon left their parents to go and play with Eddard in the next room, leaving Jon and Dany alone on the couch, and they immediately shuffled next to each other, and Dany leaned her head onto his shoulder, keeping her hand linked with him, and sent him a periodical squeeze with her hand.

“Everything alright?” Jon eventually asked her lowly, and she nodded, smiling softly, but truth be told, she was boiling with nerves. This wasn’t her first time, but she still felt nervous all the same.

Ned eventually stood up, a glass of whiskey in hand, which prompted the room to quieten. “Now that some of us,” he gazed pointedly at Jon, “are finally here, I wanted to, as usual, say a few words. This year, thankfully, has been a less intensive year than most, even though our dear Daenerys had her…accident. Thankfully, however, she has come through it very well, and I do wish you the best in your recovery, my dearest daughter-in-law.” Everyone then toasted Dany, who’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. This, besides Rhaegar, was the only family she could ever want or need.

“However,” then continued Ned, “I have an announcement to make. This term of my mayorship will be my last. When the next election comes, I will not stand for re-election. I have guided Winterfell and Winter Town for the past thirty five years, and I think it’s time for me to retire.”

“Hear hear,” chuckled Robb, prompting Margaery to swat the back of his head.

Ned smiled and toasted Robb’s wife, saying, “Thank you Margaery, dearest. I want to finish by saying that, just like every year, I am so proud of each and every one of you. Robb, for securing that trade deal your company has been chasing for years. Jon, for once again leading the Wolverines to becoming the Westeros Rugby Champions, for the second year in a row. Sansa, for all your hard work and the people you have helped in the many cases you have taken. Arya, for your impressive victory in your MMA match, despite the fact that you nearly gave me and your mother heart attacks.”

Everyone chuckled as Arya merely grinned.

“Bran,” Ned continued, turning to his second youngest, “our deepest congratulations on you securing an internship at Winternews, as you’ve wanted for years. Rickon, for your continuing outstanding grades in university. You have all done both your parents and your family proud. Thank you.”

Everyone clapped and toasted Ned as he sat down, but then Dany, much to Jon’s surprise, stood up, bringing the attention of the room to her. “I have an announcement to make,” she said, before she turned to Jon. “My love, when I look at you, I cannot see a greater man who is the father to our amazing children, or a greater person that I am going to share the rest of my life with.”

Jon smiled warmly, but it faded somewhat when Dany then sighed, somewhat nervously. “I have something to tell you,” she then said. “I only found out last week, and I wanted to surprise you.”

Jon looked confused, and remained so even as Dany pulled a small, thin package, wrapped in tartan wrapping paper, seemingly from out of nowhere. She then handed it over to him, saying, with all the affection she could muster; “Merry Christmas, my love.”

Jon, puzzled, tore open the gift, only for his heart to fail when he saw it.

It was a pregnancy test, and, upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a positive pregnancy test.

Tears gathering in his eyes, he stood up, ignoring the gasps of shock from the others. “Is…is this real?”

Dany, tears falling, nodded. “It’s real, my love. I’m pregnant.”

Applause sprung up as Jon wrapped his arms around Dany and lifted her into the air, spinning her around. She laughed happily as Jon continued to hug her, eventually bringing her to a stop and setting her back on her feet. Separating slightly, Jon looked into her bright amethyst eyes, and saw in them what he’d seen since the day they first met;

His soul-mate.

“I love you, Jon,” sobbed Dany, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

Jon swept her up in a bruising kiss, tears flowing aplenty.

When they broke the kiss, Jon said, with all the love he could summon, “I love you, Dany.” He then dropped to one knee and kissed his wife’s stomach. “And I love you too, pup. Always and forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Feels like I haven't posted in a year! (Sorry, had to make that joke)
> 
> This does come with an apology. I was working on ADOIAF when I was suddenly hit with a desire to write a Christmas fic, and so here we are. At New Years. Gods, I really need to work on my timing.
> 
> Anyway, for a little New Years present, other than this, i'd like to inform you that i'm also drafting other stories too, some of which will be far, far, far longer than this, or even ADOIAF (seriously, like 500k words long, I kid you not) Don't worry, however, I will get ADOIAF finished before I begin to focus on them, I promise.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this, and may I wish you all a Happy New Year! And Decade!
> 
> Wayrich


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